Where Many Paths and Errands Meet
by Smart Alex
Summary: AU. The Weasleys have six girls and one boy, and Harry Potter has just met their youngest girl on the Hogwarts Express in his First Year.. Oneshot.


_notes_: From a AU prompt from Omniocular—the Weasleys have six girls and one boy. A slightly different twist on a scene from Harry's First Year.

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**Where Many Paths and Errands Meet**

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Not for the first time, Harry wished that Hagrid could have come with him on the train. It was a bit lonely, not knowing anyone. And if it hadn't been for that Wizarding family he found in the station, he would have never managed to even find Platform 9 ¾ or get his trunk onto the train. But Hagrid would be at Hogwarts once he got there, and maybe he would make friends in the meantime.. 

Harry looked up as the door to his compartment slid open. It was the girl from the platform, the one who was his age.

"Er, sorry," the girl said, and gestured to the empty seat. "Everywhere else is full... Could I possibly?.."

"Go ahead," Harry said politely, and the girl gave him a small smile before sitting down.

She was thin and freckled, with a long nose, and her bright red hair pulled into two pigtails. There was a bit of dirt on her face, but she didn't seem to have noticed.

"Er, sorry if I'm being nosy," the girl said, her ears turning red, "but are you really Harry Potter?"

"Yeah," Harry said. Would he be famous everywhere he went?

The girl's blue eyes widened. "Do you really have the—the.."

"Scar?" Harry finished, grinning slightly. He pushed his bangs back.

"Wow," the girl said admiringly. "I was _sure _the twins were lying about having met you."

"Are you related?" Harry asked.

The girl snorted. "Wish we weren't. Fred and Gina are simply awful, always teasing and lying about things. And Prissy's a Prefect this year, so she's been even bossier than usual."

"Prissy?" Harry repeated, bewildered.

"Ginevra, really," the girl explained. "Mum always wanted to name a girl Ginevra, so Prissy's been her favourite. The rest of us call her Prissy because that's what she is."

"It must be nice to have a big family, though," Harry offered, not quite sure of what else to say.

"Nice?" the girl echoed, and grimaced. "I'm the youngest of six sisters. It's_terrible_."

Harry blinked. "_Six_?"

"Six," the girl confirmed. "Wilhelmina, Charlotte, Ginevra, Frederica and Georgina – those are the twins – and me. We're the first Weasley girls in generations. And then there's Ron, but he isn't going to Hogwarts until next year."

"Wow," Harry said, astonished. "Are all Wizarding families that big?"

"No," the girl said, surprised. "'course not. We Weasleys are as abnormal as you can get. But you're a wizard, too, so why—?"

"I wasn't brought up by wizards," Harry explained quickly. "I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle, and they're Muggles."

"Oh, I see," the girl said sympathetically. "How was it? My dad's crazy about Muggle things. Keeps rambling on about ekeltricity."

"It was okay," Harry said, and shrugged. "So why's your dad interested in, er, electricity?"

"He thinks it's fascinating that the Muggles have _almost_ managed to invent magic," the girl said, rolling her eyes. "Like little sparks going down a tube in the wall. Or those portraits in a box."

"Portraits in a box?" Harry repeated, bewildered. "D'you mean television?"

"I think that's what it is," the girl said off-handedly.

Harry's next question was interrupted by the door opening yet again, this time by an older woman pushing a trolley loaded with sweets.

"Anything to eat, dearie?" she asked kindly.

Harry's stomach grumbled, reminding him that breakfast had been a very long way off. It seemed the perfect time for a Mars bar. But the trolley didn't seem to have Mars bars, instead showing things like Chocolate Frogs, and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and Every Flavor Beans.

The woman turned to the girl as Harry tried to figure out what he wanted. "Would you like anything, dearie?" she asked.

The girl's ears turned red again. "No, thanks," she said, holding up a very squashed corned beef sandwich. "I've got some already."

Harry looked at her, looked at the sandwich, and back at the trolley. He'd never been able to even consider buying more than one candy bar before, and so he recognized the look on the girl's face. "I'll take the lot," he said firmly, holding out a few of the gold coins.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" the girl said, staring at the coins in his hand.

"'m hungry," Harry said, and grinned. "You're welcome to some, if you'd like."

"Well.." the girl trailed off, looking down at her sandwich. "I really do hate corned beef, to tell the truth. Mum always forgets, though. You don't have much to spare with five children at home."

"Then it's settled," Harry said. "Only, you're going to have to tell me what's what, because I haven't had any of these before."

It took a few moments to sort through the amount of candy that was now on the seats. The corned beef sandwich had disappeared under the boxes of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans.

"So there are only five of you at home?" Harry asked, sorting through a bag of Drooble's Best.

"Yeah, Mina and Charlie graduated a few years back.. Mina works for Gringotts these days, she was Head Girl in her time, and Charlie's gone to study unicorns and Thestrals and things. She was Quidditch Captain, and the Holyhead Harpies wanted her to play for them, but she said she was too busy with _research_," the girl said scornfully, apparently finding this lamentable.

Harry opened his mouth to ask what Quidditch was, as it sounded like some sort of sport, but the girl's attention had already shifted.

"Ooh, Chocolate Frogs!" the girl said excitedly, reaching for the box. "These are really good. There's a collectible card in every box with a famous witch or wizard on them—I've collected them since I was eight, I have quite a few now…"

Harry picked up another Chocolate Frog and examined it thoughtfully. "Are they real frogs?"

"Ugh, no," the girl said, shuddering. "They're just shaped like one. Oh, and watch out, they've got a good jump in them once you open the box.."

The chocolate frog had indeed jumped out of Harry's box, and out of the window.

"Oh!" said a surprised voice. "Was that a real toad?"

Harry looked up. There was yet another girl in the doorway, with bushy brown hair, already wearing her robes. He was starting to wonder if he'd ever meet any boys his age.

"No, just chocolate," Harry said curiously. "Why?"

"A boy named Neville's lost his," the bushy-haired girl explained, sounding as if she'd given this explanation many times before. "I've been helping him look. It doesn't seem to be anywhere."

"It'll probably show up by the time we get there," the Weasley girl said, examining the card from the Chocolate Frog box. "I've lost my rat loads of times, but he always comes back."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd only seen Neville," said the bushy-haired girl. "He's terribly upset. Hang on, aren't you Harry Potter?"

"Er, yes," Harry said, pushing his bangs to the side to reveal his scar before she could ask about it.

"I've read all about you, you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ and all sorts of things— I'm Hermione Granger," she said very fast, and stuck out her hand.

Harry shook it, feeling terribly self-conscious. Hagrid hadn't mentioned anything about his being in _books_. "Nice to meet you," he mumbled.

Hermione then turned to the Weasley girl. "And who are you?"

"…Muriel Weasley," said Muriel, her ears turning red again. She seemed very reluctant to introduce herself, and Harry realized that she hadn't bothered to mention her name before.

"Muriel? Unusual name," Hermione said.

"I'm named after my Great-Aunt," Muriel said, smiling tightly. "I don't suppose_you'd _think it's funny, with a name like Hermione?"

Hermione turned a bit pink. "Not really, no. Is she dead, then, your Great-Aunt?"

Muriel scowled. "She's one hundred and one and very much alive. Unfortunately."

The air was beginning to feel a bit heavy, so Harry loudly began to rummage through a box of jelly beans. But when he picked up the box, his fingers brushed against something furry, and he jumped.

"Oh, Scabbers!" Muriel said, grabbing him from the pile. "I'd wondered where you'd got to."

"_That's_ your rat?" Hermione said, sounding slightly disdainful. "A girl named Pansy Parkinson's just showed me hers. It can do tricks and somersaults and all sorts of things."

"Scabbers is old," Muriel said, with a dignified air. "He has been in my family for twelve years, and so he isn't quite up to somersaulting. Or—or tricks."

"Why's he named Scabbers?" Harry quickly interrupted, attempting to change the subject.

In response, Muriel held the rat out. He seemed to have a scab on his foot, and another one by his ear.

"He was all over fleas when we found him," she said brightly. "_Very_ scabby. Prissy took care of him, at least until she went to Hogwarts and found out that rats weren't very fashionable. So now he's mine."

"Fascinating," Hermione said, although she clearly thought it to be anything but. "It's been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I've got to keep looking for Neville's toad. By the way, you have dirt on your face, right there—" she said to Muriel, pointing to a spot on her own face before leaving.

"_Tricks and somersaults_!" Muriel repeated indignantly as soon as the door had closed, rubbing at her face. "I can't _help_ it if Scabbers isn't a showoff like other rats. You don't get fancy new things when you're the sixth one going to Hogwarts. Everything I own is a hand-me-down."

Scabbers squeaked forlornly, wriggling out of her grip and onto the seat, where he promptly fell asleep.

"Rubbish," Muriel muttered, picking up the Chocolate Frog card she had found before. "Oh, it's another Dumbledore, I've got about six of him.. D'you want it, Harry?"

"Sure," Harry said, not quite sure of what else to say. He looked down at the card, and gasped. The picture of Dumbledore was scratching his nose.

"He moves!" Harry said in surprise.

Muriel looked up, a half-eaten chocolate frog in her hand. The headless frog presented a bit of a morbid picture, its legs still twitching faintly. "Of course he moves. Why wouldn't he?"

"Muggle pictures don't move," Harry explained. "Not photographs and cards, at least."

"Really?" Muriel said interestedly.

Harry looked down at the card again. Dumbledore had disappeared, leaving only the background behind him.

"And—he's gone!" Harry said.

"Well, I'm sure he has better things to do than hang around all day," Muriel said, finishing her chocolate. "The back of the card has some information about him. Headmaster of Hogwarts, and all that."

"_He's_Headmaster? That's fantastic," Harry said, reading the back. "He's really done a lot, then, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, a true Gryffindor," Muriel said proudly. "Of course, he doesn't talk about that, as it would make people think he's too partial.."

"He was in Gryffindor, too?" Harry asked.

"Right, he was Head of House before he became Headmaster. My Mum and Dad were in Gryffindor, and my sisters have all been there, too. I can't imagine being anywhere else," Muriel admitted. "I don't like the idea of the Sorting, though, Fred said something about a fighting a banshee last week."

"A banshee? I thought they didn't exist," Harry mused. "Like werewolves, and vampires and things." Hagrid had definitely not mentioned anything about fighting.

Muriel looked at him strangely. "Of course they exist. Werewolves are terribly dangerous, and there are loads of laws to restrict them… It's the same for vampires, I mean, what if a vampire started teaching school? We'd all be dead in a week."

Harry blinked. "The Muggles don't believe in them, so I thought.."

"Well, Muggles don't believe in much of anything, do they?" Muriel said patiently. "I bet they wouldn't know a ghoul if it gurgled at them."

"Would you?" Harry asked.

"I've had entirely too much experience with ghouls," Muriel said, and shuddered. "Ours lives in the attic, right up there with the—the spiders, and he makes the most frightful noises right over my ceiling.. ugh."

"Well, we've got ages to go yet," Harry said, handing her another Frog. Muriel seemed to have become very, very pale at the mentions of spiders.

"Yeah, you're right," she said, and brightened up when she saw the card. "Oh, it's Circe! I've been trying to get her for ages—oh, no, don't do that.."

Circe was absent-mindedly picking her nose. Harry couldn't help bursting into laughter.

It was beginning to seem like a much better year was ahead of him than the last…


End file.
